April 6th, 2009
i am angry. ridiculously angry.
i was annoyed yesterday and of course as my mind processes things when i try to ignore them i have become more and more angry.
to the point that i actually don't know what to say.
the logical part of me understands and is ok with it, the emotional part of me is absolutely furious and wondering if the friendship is actually real or if as appearances are being put forth it doesn't. not really.
when you know someone like that they should know the things that are going to hurt. they should be aware and when they exhibit all signs as they have before they do. which is why the betrayal is always that much worse. especially when you know they just aren't thinking about it and how it might feel to you. when they seem to have decided your feelings and emotions are useless. it leads one to believe that friendship is a masquerade.
i'm waiting because honestly this fury does no one any good. i am angry to the point that there aren't words and the only thing i want to do is throw acid and sand in the face before me. because my heart burns as that would.
step back one, step back two... who would think one would retreat so quickly. anyone who knows me. anyone who knows me knows the little things count, those unspoken words and actions. and these.... these are just disrespectful. the fact that it wasn't even thought about makes it that much fucking worse.
i am angry and tired and my heart hurts and i am tired of people assuming that by not saying anything they protect a situation. you.... you have been my friend long enough to know that is bullshit. and yet....
March 30th, 2009
i am terrified of happiness. that's the reason for this nervous clench in my heart. i know this.
the excitement, the thrill, the thoughts of the maybes but more the momentary nature of this situation make it all the more brilliant. however happy this makes me though it pales in comparison to the litany of ways in which the cosmos are trying to fuck us right now.
and there is nothign to do.
through all of this watching in just these few days i have come to stark realizations about how exactly i have chosen to protect my heart and why. things i knew but never really told myself.
i know exactly how fleeting passion is, i know how hard love is, i know how craven people become when it is taken away...i know so many things from having watched and having lived and i know that in a second happiness can be taken away.
and the concept of losing it again........
it terrifies me.
so if i stay away and i don't let anyone in then i don't have to ever worry about losing what i never had.
that is not a healthy attitude to have towards happiness. it is the antithesis of what i want to have.
the question becomes what to do.
there's a chance here. a logistical nightmare of a chance. but it's a chance and unlike anything i've ever been through before. i'm not the only one who knows this. i'm not the only one who's terrified and i'm not the only one that sees the roadblocks... but we seem to be trucking on forward. as turtle paced as we might be.
do i take a step? do i move that direction or do i scurry right back into my little hole and only peep my nose out.
i know what i want to do. what i should do. but the question is if it's something i can do.
March 27th, 2009
more and more every day i am realizing that i am living a dream that i do not necessarily want.
people look at me and they tell me they see success. here i am. a college graduate, masters in hand, certificates and certifications framed and gleaming on my wall, workign for a successful company that just celebrated it's 50 years. i'm being trained to run construction. to design and deliniate, negotiate and dictate. to do everything within my power to create an edifice that can house and allow for comfort.
all for what?
there are two skills you need to have to be an architect that gets out of the office that they never teach you in school - at least not officially. bullshitting and charisma. let's face it... i've got that in spades. god knows where that comes from. but have it do.
but i face every morning when i wake up the reality of the fact that those skills served me just as well with a pizza in one hand and a pitcher of beer in the other. and i honestly enjoyed that work more. who wouldn't though. people not as social as me i guess.
" i am nothing of a builder. but here i dreamt i was an architect."
someone asked me recently what i want. what i want it that ambiguous word. you know that one i'm talking about: happiness. or maybe satisfaction? because there is a sure difference. i am mostly happy. but i am not satisfied.
finding i think about it more recently. mostly because the thoughts of everything and anything are not pounding through my head in a race to win over concentration. but this... this dream they dreamt for me.... this life i am living. what exactly am i doing?
oh angst. internal and external.
i've never been one who has been able to settle. i've never been able to take the mediocre and just walk with it. i've never been able to just say ok that's part of what i want i'll take it and let the rest go. should one ever settle when it comes to what they want in life or should you keep trying and working and moving and ever trying to reach that goal. at what point do you get to just stop and live?
and where exactly is this rung i am striving for?
what is it that i want indeed. for now my answer is vague, fuzzy... without direction but inside i know this life in front of a computer bringing to life someone else's vision is not what i want. i need something more.
and you know what.... i am actually pretty damn good at this. my skill set is perfectly tailored for what i do and what i will be doing. but is it enough to fulfill me just to be good at something?
i am less and less sure every day.
but for now "i guess it always comes down to alright, it's ok."
Current Music: the decemberists - castaways and cutouts
March 23rd, 2009
ok - look.... i have no idea what i'm doing. no idea what i'm getting into. but that's the thing right... supposed to stop judging before i even know the possibilities. stopping the predetermination before anything even begins.
gah... i don't know.
there's so much in the way. there always has been so much in the way. there's a pattern here that's been there for years and i don't know if it can be broken.
if it can.... if any of this honestly has a chance it's going to take alot of work, alot of trust, alot of impossible odds....
alot of things i don't know if either one of us has inside.
what i do know is that the connection is still there. there's still no one that can make me laugh like that. that no one makes me as confused or as furious with as few words. that no one has ever been that close to me and yet so far away.
it's always been like this.
it's never made any sense.
it's never worked before.
what in the hell can even make me think for a second it could work now?
maybe i'm just ready to try something utterly familiar and completely new?
i dunno. i have no idea what i'm doing. but i'm doing it. i guess.... maybe?
March 20th, 2009
here's the thing about passion: you can't just leave it behind.
aye. there's the rub.
anything you feel passionate about... well, you never get to just leave that at the end of the day or the end of a trip or the end of an affair. it's something that follows you. it sits in your mind tap tap tapping behind your eye telling you sweetly demanding that you need to follow through, that you can change it, do it better, create and absorb and love and bring to new heights. it is saying i am here, always with you, inside of you lighting that preverbial fire and creating a desperation inside compared to none. turning your back on passion never works. it will follow you slowly and without remorse, tracking your movements, your daily activities and the moment when you are least expecting it will pounce. pounce and drive you to the ground in deliriumn.
oh passion how i love the. how i loathe thee.
there is no peace in a life of passion. there is no way to just turn it off. we all strive to fill our lives with love and passion and then there we stand unable to leave it behind, turn it off, slow it down. passion burns and the glorious heat will scorch when you are least expecting.
passion is what makes this life worth living to me.
seeing it in others, watching it in action, knowing it as personally as i do.
life without passion is no life that i want.
i have said many times that i will take the pain that comes with the glory of passion... but sometimes i wish i could just turn it off and walk away just enjoy and forget what passion brings to me... the necessity to insure it is right.
whatever right is for that part.
this is something you forget when you are just trying to survive.
March 18th, 2009
the client is tilting at windmills.
i do not have time for this.
well, last night was the first nightmare night since i started the meds.
terror has a new name.
i could honestly give all of these gore horror flick people a run for their money. last night we were trapped in a circus like building with rides and such and a serial killer (as always). it was bloody. very bloody. i remember sitting there in the dream and i just told myself i had to get through it. i just had to wait while everyone around me died because it would be my turn to fight soon enough. and i was angry.
it was 5 as is now customary when i woke out of that. it was a slow pull wake. one where i knew i was dreaming at the end and where i knew i had to get out. and i felt as i started to slip back into sleep that i was going straight for the same dream. i made myself get up and go to the bathroom. even a 2 minute reprieve is better than none.
the inentisity was more. emotionally this time. i didn't just know something was after me. i knew why and i knew who and i knew where the next victims were going to die and what was going to happen to them. i knew all of it and i watched all of it and i screamed and hit and railed and fought.
and i know what it meant.
a simple and deadly expression of how much i want to take care of everyone i love and always know they are safe and how life can do what life will and there is nothing i can say or do about it.
i just wish the damn lessons would come with less pain.
March 6th, 2009
my dreams are always vivid. always feel real.. but with the changes to my body chemistry from the meds they're different now. i can feel them changing. i can feel them standing out and amazing me.
the past 3 nights now i have stood still at least once in my dreams and merely turned, looked around, observed the beauty and brilliance my mind is creating. and known this world was as real as any other just within my grasp to really appreciate.
i suppose after so many years of the running, the chasing, the blood spills, and the violent arguments anything like this would seem beautiful and simple.
there are still twists, there are still turns, there are still those moments when i know something is wrong.
but those lips on my neck are not pushing my head back to sink into my skin... they are what my body needs. they are the reality of the situation of who i am.
the girl who loves the human touch. not just the sex, not just the violence of it, but the simple act of holding hands, quietly sitting amongst cushions and blankets and watching the world go by, the simple act of a hug that doesn't feel rushed. it's not love i miss. it's the human touch.
it's sad to think the loneliness in my heart isn't from the only love i don't have in my life so much as the loves i miss.
i grew up solitary in the times they tell me matter. the developmental stage they tell me should be the most vivid. it is no more and no less vivid than the memories i have of the top of the hill before they say i should remember. i was never alone then. my mother being a social creature and my father already by then a creature of habit who only felt comfortable around others when high, who seemed to always be high. there were a pack of us children. small and adventurous, little mountain monkeys with a penchant for berries and fossils, two of my favorite things on the face of the planet to this day. we ran wild on those mountains. i was from the time i could walk given more freedom than most people have ever had. funny how my mother trusted me then like she has never trusted me since. i grew up in a pack. i went home an only child. i lived a dual life. maybe that was when it all started.
that changed significantly when she left him. i remember the fighting and the scenes and the screaming and the way i learned to throw myself down stairs to stop them. i remember the heartbreak of watching her drive away and not knowing if she would come back. i remember leaving and nelda looking at me and being the only person who would tell me. tell me it was ok, tell me that they still loved me, tell me that i was their daughter and i was the best of them and i could handle this. i did handle it. not well, but i handled it. years later i think not well is an understatement. but who does handle something like that well... i was always better when told the truth and trusted.... neither one of them could do that for anyone after that. i knew a long time ago that if they had stayed together i would have died very early on. passion is dangerous and if there's one thing they have in common and gave to me it is that. they brought out the worst in each other, but they loved. they honestly loved. it was a swift change. from everything i had known about my life.
maybe i shouldn't think about it so much. maybe it shouldn't be so vivid. maybe then the emotions wouldn't be tied to it. but there is so much i can't forget. times burned into my brain that stand as slow moving films. 30 second shorts of my life from a blond haired bow lipped chubby toddler to the woman i am today. moments shared with other people. moments where i am alone. all of these things that play in my head. somehow they still rise up in my dreams. the vivid colors, the exaggerated body movements, the wildly sci fi carnival fantasy that dances about in my mind.
i am uncontrollably happy that this week there is no terror.
i found myself standing on wood. the shiny planking beneath my feet echoed as i walked. this was a simple hut, but grand, large, ridiculously so. low long eaves hung out over empty space as i walked forward and peered through woven screen, grass so thin, so finely woven and tied together it resembled the bug screen we americans are so proud to own. i marveled at the craftsmanship. the beauty in something so simple and yet so damn intricate. as i turned and looked i realized exactly how large the space was. how beautiful and serene. wood on wood with a systematic exposed structure. everything with the sheen of human hands, worn down wood, the kind you find on old stairwells in quietly rotting homes. the rains started slowly, a trickle, then a drum beat and the empty room became a hollow soft dwelling, all protection i would ever need was here. i walked slowly to the wide opening and watched as the rain poured over the eaves, feet away, and sluiced down the large stairs to puddle in the fields and plains beyond. turning slowly i saw at the very end a red softly glowing silken circus tent of a canopy bed. cloth spun so fine that breeze of my movements sent it tumbling and swirling, colors shifting as the light from outside played against it. soft mist falling on fabric never stained, never soaked, only made all the more brilliant. pulling back a curtain i looked inside and breathed out the sigh of relief as what i can only term as the most comfortable looking bed in the world was in front of me. sheets tumbled and tossed as if i had climbed out moments before finding myself in this world. the warmth evident in those white linens was more inviting than anything i have seen in months. as i slowly crawled in and snuggled down i smiled and laughed. nested myself in fluff and softness and drifted off to sleep.
find me waking later in the same place. see me climbing out of bed to turn as the party began. my party. one of my parties. one of the old ones with multitudes of people passing back and forth. new faces and old surrounding and talking and laughing. the clink of glasses together and on counters only adding to the musical cacophany swirling around me. i laughed, i talked, i was as always, the hostess. and i, as always, enjoyed it. time passed, like those sped up moments in film, the people passing looked like those still photographs of busy streets all color and light and no defined characteristics. the conversations fled and faces before were fast animated caricatures of everything around. then i sped up to join them.
see me tired, watching the dawn sun come up and looking slowly around at my empty space. soft bodies of those i love laying sleeping. deep breaths, in and out. a softness in their forms unaware what in daylight could never be shown. so hard and tough, so capable no matter the storm, but in those private moments, when no one is watching, that is when the qualities i admire most become visible. courage in the face of danger, strength despite the presence of weakness, laughter despite the sadness... finding a way through and a life worth living despite what the world might throw your way.i turned from the wall, arms crossed and smiled. slowly walked back to my haven and climbed in. snuggled down to feel the warmth radiating next to me. i was surprised, but not surprised, this happens often. i pulled the blanket down from his face and as he reached for me and smiled, drawing me near i tried to run. i tried to pull away. then i felt those lips on my neck and i was gone.
no more sanctuary of wood and fields. no more parties in my mind. no more curtains over this haven bed. just me. waking slowly and turning to the clock. the hour way to early but awake i was. i turned over, flipped open my curtains, snuggled the cat lying there and saw the morning sun rising. slid back into my covers. a final oblivion of darkness, if only for an hour.
February 2nd, 2009
in your head sometimes you see things you don't want to see. it's not just in the dreams anymore. it's a moment where i sit quietly and i look around and suddenly it all flashes destruction. one of those moments of movies where wreckage and carnage are all around, the smoke and the soot carried from hundreds of miles around all whirling devils as you hear faint screams and scrapings and sounds of survival... and then i feel it.... the crawl of eyes on my skin as my spine tingles and i inevitable turn around to stare at nothing but the gray wall of my cubicle once again manifest in reality.
and people wonder why i'm jumpy.
i don't wonder if i'm going crazy anymore. long ago ever given up hope that this brain of mine gives simple answers.
an over active imagination. a wondering thought. the bitterness of suspected failure.
the words spoken to me would beg to differ. but then one has to wonder if there is one point, one big cosmic decision, what role is mine to play. there would be no reason to see anything if there isn't a role to play.
i would make a terrible prophet.
i don't pretend anymore like i've got any clue what is going one. why i can and could do what i do. it's something i accept with a shrug and a look, but it doesn't mean i don't want the answers or the reality or something other than the constant suspicion that something else is going on. i suppose if i had faith i would say it was something different. i suppose if i had faith i would find a reason. i suppose alot of things would be different if i could focus wholely on either science or faith.
as it is now i come back from those splashes suspicious and wary. waiting, always waiting for the moment when it makes sense. they're never as defined as they need to be and while significantly less creepy and distorted than when i sleep, still always haunting.
i've begun to focus on the duality of the possibilities. to live all my tomorrows today and to strive for a tomorrow of forever. there is no way of definatively knowing anything. there is no way of picking a side. at this point i will continue to walk this line and hope that maybe one day those eyes i feel watching me will solidify so that i might take an action.
January 28th, 2009
i always find myself coming back to gnarls barkley when i'm worried about my mind. i don't know why. but i do. maybe it's because there seems to be something so comforting about their lasseiz fair attitude related to life. saying hey... we've been there... but waht construct of society says that it means i'm different, weird... without cause? that there is an oppurtunity for an alternate reality. one in which what the soul is, sees, does, and gives is what is important. not how along someone else's lines you travel.
we are living in an open time. if you say we aren't you need to open your eyes. you need to open your heart. you need to open your world. this is not a time to hold onto the past as your anchor. this is the time to open up and look, watch and learn, be and experience.
.......... (hours later)
all of that aside i'm going to fucking kill someone if they don't find the existing conditions drawing packages previously done for this project i am working on. i know the damn things were scanned because i did it myself and they are no longer in any of the files and the goddamn paper copies are missing from the office too. i am going to STRANGLE someone if they don't find them and put them back. who just takes or moves drawings related to a project? who the fuck?